Black Widow | 18+

33 | Old Behaviour

Artemisia 

I looked over at Anton as he spoke to the waiter in greek, both of them laughing, and I could catch onto a little bit of what they were saying but not all of it. The older waiter pointed to me and made some sort of praising gesture, causing Anton to laugh and shake his head, whilst I just sat there confused. 

The waiter, after a couple more moments of interaction, departed, "Why do you speak fucking Greek?" I said, bewildered 

"Why do you not speak Greek?" Anton mused

"I haven't gotten round to it, you know, the single-mother and owning a business thing kind of gets in the way sometimes." I rolled my eyes and Anton chuckled, having achieved one of his favourite things in life, pissing me off. 

"I'm proud of you," he said suddenly, and I looked up at him watching as he nodded, "I am Arté, the way you've just switched everything around, but you're still you, or at least the you I knew behind closed doors." 

I shook my head with a small smile, "do you know what I do for a living now?" 

"Of course I do," Anton nodded, leaning forward a little. 

"How?" I asked, giving him a playfully suspicious look 

"Can't possibly think that I haven't done my research Artemisia." He mused and I smiled and shook my head, "But seriously, I think the school is an amazing thing, and I know how close the cause is to your heart, I am really proud of you Arté."

I felt my smile grow wide, unwillingly albeit, and dropped my head as I felt embarrassed. Complimenting me on my looks was one thing, but to actually talk about my personality or achievements was a completely different thing, and having Anton do it was special. 

Yes, it was special, because here was the man that I had gone through everything with, not pushing anger my way but kindness and genuine pride. 

However it was fucking difficult, and the feelings that it brought out in me should have set alarm bells off in my head, bells that would tell me I was close to being sucked back in; but I didn't care, not in the moment. 

Anton and I were doing something normal, but we weren't a couple. It was strange, I wanted to say something about how it felt like times in Madrid or those occasional times not driven by anger in New York behind closed doors, but then I remembered that if he wasn't going to be the responsible one then I had to be. 

Yes, he told me he loved me, that was true, and maybe I felt the same way, it was something I was in denial about, but at the end of the day he was married with children and he had to do the right thing. If he wasn't going to do the right thing, I would and put a stop to whatever may have possibly evolved. 

"You're deep in thought," he murmured, and I looked up at him, another embarrassed smile coming to my lips at being caught. "Talk to me,"

"It's just been a whirlwind month, that's all." I sighed before sipping the white wine 

"I can only imagine," he murmured, looking over at the restaurant. We were in a court yard, filled with tables, with walls covered in flowers and ivy, "how are you feeling about it all?"

"Scared," I breathed, as if the confession was something I didn't want anyone else to hear, "maybe that's not the right word, I..."

"I think scared is the right word," Anton said, still looking out at the courtyard, and he slowly brought his gaze back to mine. "You have two people back in your life who you've spent avoiding for the past five years,"